


Sneaking Past Time's Toll-man

by ivanolix



Series: Storm-verse [3]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon - TV, Canon Het Relationship, Closet Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Married Couple, Married Sex, Porn, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-30
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-09 06:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivanolix/pseuds/ivanolix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kara and Sam make always make sex work, even if schedules suck and they’re rusty. Deleted scene from "Meet Your Storm". (You can probably understand this AU regardless of whether you've read the original fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sneaking Past Time's Toll-man

“Look, we shouldn’t be picky,” Sam said as Kara paused outside the storage closet.

She gave him a look, but ducked in, pulling the door closed behind her. Everything went dark, warm, and there wasn’t much room to stand. “Gods, this comm had better work,” Kara said, setting down the tiny radio on the first shelf she could feel in the dark.

“It’ll work,” Sam assured her, and she could hear the slight jingle of his belt being yanked off. “That’s not a main danger.”

He was right. They’d certainly hear if Kacey woke up, through the radio; she wasn’t in danger. What was in danger was their tryst, since it was unlikely that Kacey would sleep for more than fifteen minutes without them. Kara’s heart flittered as she let drop her pants, whipping off her shirt and not caring that her elbow bumped the shelf in the dark.

“Gods, I need this,” Sam murmured under his breath, finally pulling Kara to him in the dark, until skin pressed against skin.

Kara was already tingling down to her toes, and they could skip the kissing and the foreplay, most of which wasn’t even necessary given the eyefrak over the couch before Kacey had finally drifted off to sleep. It was all Kara could do not to tackle Sam to the floor—and she might have, if they’d had more space in this stupid closet.

“Right here, Sam,” she informed, feeling his hands scrabble behind her back, finding the shelves. She rotated them, finding the gap between shelves and wall, smooth enough that it wouldn’t dig into her hips.

She could hear Sam in the dark, hear the moan of anticipation as he lined them up, hands brushing against her thighs. Kara leaned her weight against the shelf, hiking a leg around his waist to make it easier, and took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Something about the darkness made that first moment of him sliding in deep like the first rush of Viper flight, being shot out of the tubes while the heart’s racing and the hands are gripping controls too firmly.

But it wasn’t something to be savored for more than a second. Kara let her breath out, twisting her hips until he fit just right, fit so good, and there was no stopping now. Her hands pulled at his shoulders, and his settled at her hips, holding her in place in the pitch black as he glided in and out. She could hear the air hiss past clenched teeth, him trying to be silent just in case the radio sounded.

Kara didn’t listen, she just felt, enjoyed the quick pace from the start for a change. They didn’t waste time much anymore, not since Kacey, not since the long separation. Kara had stepped across the line she’d drawn in a single bound, and almost crashed into Sam as he followed her with an urgency that proved to their advantage. Here, in a cupboard, stealing a few moments before their child noticed their absence, Kara loved the different way this quick intensity felt.

And there was still that hint of danger, the hint that maybe they’d be interrupted. Sam was thrusting into her almost faster than her heartbeat, and she could barely breathe for focusing on these precious few moments. No slow buildup, no teasing plateau, they were heading straight for the finish line, full speed ahead.

Kara’s hips bucked against Sam, bucked against his hands and the feel of his cock deep in her, the rising jolts of arousal making her feel hot and whimpery. There wasn’t enough air in this closet, especially not with his arms by her head, hands pressed against the shelf behind her as he kept himself from crushing her. She could feel the skin of his shoulders beneath her fingers, smell the sharp scent of him, and if she could only have caught her breath she would have nuzzled against him and sucked hard at his skin.

But she was hanging on for the ride, and there was no point in stopping something this fast. “More, more,” she said and arched against him, bra still on and the cotton soft and rubbing against her (but not quite enough).

His hand moved behind her hip, caressing the curve of her ass as he pulled her in, moving just a little deeper. She ground down as much as she could, feeling the moment closer, digging her nails into his shoulder-blades as her back started to stiffen in readiness.

Then a choking grunt came out, a puff of air from him, and he jerked against her, coming hard and fast. Kara breathed in as he thrust roughly, a few moves before the shaking in him died down. The stopping made her gasp in protest, still trapped on the edge.

“Frak,” he swore breathlessly, still tight against her. “Gods, frak it.”

 “S’okay,” she breathed out, pulling her hand from his shoulder to clench it, trying not to push against him for more that he couldn’t give her anymore. “We’re out of practice, stayed away too long.”

“No, gods, Kara, I’m sorry,” Sam said, brushing his lips against her hair as he leaned in, weariness and guilt in his voice. “Just give me a second, I got this.”

Kara was about to protest, about to say that bad times were okay, even as her sensitized body argued against that point. But they were married—it wasn’t like this was the last chance.

She could feel Sam’s muscles losing their tension, relaxing; she knew that he was worn and tired from work and childcare. She almost pushed him away, insisted they go back to bed and sleep, and it wasn’t the best ending but it had felt good while it lasted—but his fingers found her breast beneath her bra then, brushing at her still-erect nipple.

“Sam—” Kara started to say, because finishing too soon was one thing, but teasing her about it...

“Just need a minute,” he said under his breath, still close even as he lost his hardness, and his fingers started to drown that fact out of her mind. “Need you to be ready.”

She grunted at the back of her throat and let her hand rest on his shoulder, hoping to all the gods that he knew what he was doing. His thumb and forefinger twisted at her nipple under the cotton, and she was about to demand his mouth there, not caring about time. Then he slipped down to his knees, between her legs.

“Still gotta hurry,” she heard him murmur, breath tickling her belly.

Kara shivered, and then he tucked her leg over his shoulder, moving in close. “Don’t stop,” she said, voice tight as she could feel his face moving in.

Sam’s hand rested on the outside of her thigh, stroking in time with his tongue as he tasted her, tasted where they mingled together. It seemed like he’d barely got his bearings before he started going faster, teeth at work where she was still swollen and slippery, and now aching to finish.

Kara tossed her head back, hitting the shelf behind her and sending slight sparks into the darkness that was still all she could see. But she had a little more air now, and she sucked it down, Sam’s mouth rough and quick as he brought her back up to the edge where he’d unintentionally stranded her.

“Harder,” she ordered in a whisper, trying not to grip his head with the thigh wrapped over his shoulder, his large hand holding it tightly.

He did, sucking and almost biting at her folds until there was satisfaction as she felt release come in short piercing waves, hips tipping into his face as she spasmed. And they hadn’t been interrupted. Success on two accounts.

“Gods,” Kara gasped, reaching down to grasp his hair in her hands, stopping him as the sharp pleasure was too much and she needed to come down slowly.

He stumbled to his feet, close against her, their heartbeats still pattering. “Sorry,” he whispered wearily against her cheek, hand resting at the small of her back.

“Oh, you’re definitely forgiven,” Kara said, and even though they’d moved quickly, there was still that bit of glow that made it worth it. She leaned her cheek in towards him, rubbing against him as the last moment was still theirs to savor.

Then a rustling sounded over the radio, and they sighed out at the same time.

Kara’s hip hit against the corner of the shelf as they dove for clothes, and Sam hissed out when some part of him hit something. They almost smacked heads together when he couldn’t find his belt and Kara almost tripped over it, and then the bright light of the hallway almost blinded them as they darted quickly back to their quarters. It was late, Kacey needed them before she’d sleep soundly, and they had duties the next day.

But these little stolen moments were worth it. Kara felt her eyelids droop and Sam’s arm lay heavily across her and Kacey in their big bed, the warmth of afterglow still over them both. It didn’t matter how short the moments were, now that she had them back again.


End file.
